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Lee stood on the edge of the train platform, a puff of breath escaping his lips and mingling with the icy air. The snow had begun to fall early that morning light flurries brushing against his dark wool coat, gathering along his scarf, and clinging to the ends of his hair. It was exactly the kind of winter day he'd been hoping for: quiet, picturesque, and filled with the kind of cold that made hot chocolate taste better.
He glanced at his phone for the tenth time. No new messages. Elise had said her train would arrive at 9:45, and it was already 9:40. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the red and gray gloves Elise had knitted him last winter peeking from the sleeves.
Lee had always felt a bit like winter himself soft, misunderstood, beautiful in ways that didn’t always fit expectations. Being intersex had never been simple, especially in high school. Labels never sat quite right, and doctors had only complicated things. But Elise... Elise had a way of seeing him clearly, even when he didn’t quite see himself.
The train rumbled in the distance, its low whistle echoing off the surrounding hills. He straightened, a smile spreading across his face. A few minutes later, the silver train hissed to a stop, and passengers began to pour out onto the platform.
There she was.
Elise moved with a mix of grace and awkwardness, balancing her duffle bag over one shoulder and squinting into the snowfall. Her dark curls were tucked into a knitted hat with a pom-pom on top, and her cheeks were rosy from the cold. When she spotted him, her eyes lit up, and she jogged over, nearly slipping on the icy concrete.
“Lee!” she exclaimed, breathless and beaming.
He caught her in a hug, the momentum of her excitement nearly knocking them both over. She smelled like vanilla and lavender and a little bit of train station coffee.
“You’re freezing,” she said, pulling back to kiss his cheek.
“So are you,” he grinned, brushing snow off her hat. “But you’re here.”
“And you’re still taller than I remember.”
They laughed and fell into step together, heading toward his car. Elise linked her arm with his, and he felt warmth spread from that one point of contact all the way through him.
“Your mom’s still okay with me staying, right?” Elise asked once they were inside the heated car.
“She made your favorite lasagna,” Lee said. “And she bought peppermint cocoa. She’s more excited than I am.”
“That’s impossible,” Elise said with a wink.
The drive home was quiet in that comforting way that only snow-covered towns can be. They passed familiar landmarks Lee’s old school, the frozen lake where he and Elise had once dared each other to walk out on the thin ice (a terrible idea), the bakery that always smelled like cinnamon.
